Ten Minutes In Hell

The big arm of the old analog clock struck eleven as Dazai held a lighter up to his lips, lighting a cigarette with a sigh. It was nights like these he cherished the quiet room he resided in at the port mafia. Well, quiet until his roommate came back home. The room Dazai shared with Chuuya was spacious enough; there was a,uaz pretty large COMMONWEALTH

room with bookshelves and armchairs, and their bedrooms stood on opposing sides of it. It was pretty empty all things considered, except uaam people home with him, and they'd leave their stuff all over the place. Dazai sighed and closed his eyes, reveling in the last few seconds of silence before his partner came back.

Chuuya hauled his bag over his shoulders and groaned as the weight of the day finally started to make itself known on his body. He walked through the halls of the Port Mafia dorms, partially relying on muscle memory to find his way back to his room since the hallways were so dimly lit. Chuuya fumbled with his key as he unlocked the dorm he shared with his younger, much more irritating roommate. Dazai sat in one of the leather armchairs, nursing a manhattan as he leisurely peered through a tattered old novel, cigarette tucked between his lips. His eyes found Chuuya as the redhead closed the door to their room with a sigh, throwing his bag down on the floor.

"God, I'm fuckin' tired." Chuuya slipped out of his jacket and tossed it onto the coat rack.

"Aw, sleepy Chuuya," Dazai cooed. "Gets so tuckered out from doing his job."

"Like you aren't tired," Chuuya sneered, unlacing his boots. "I saw you with Mori today, you looked an inch away from death."

"Don't flatter me like that," Dazai said with a smile. "But I'm afraid you're incorrect; I don't get as worn out as you do over such simple tasks."

"Oh really," Chuuya snorted. "And why's that, genius?"

"Because I'm better than you at everything," Dazai said with his chest puffed out dramatically.

"That's rich." Chuuya pulled his hair out of the tiny ponytail it was tied into. "And what makes you think that?"

"That's just a fact. You can't be mad at facts."

"Bullshit," Chuuya barked. "Were you just waiting for me to come back so you could start insulting me?"

"Perhaps," Dazai said, puckering his cigarette and blowing a trail of smoke towards his partner. "It does keep me entertained to remind myself how superior I am."

"Tough talk for someone who's not even allowed to drive a car," Chuuya scoffed.

"At least I can reach the top shelf in the liquor cabinet," Dazai said, turning another page in his book.

"Yeah? Well, I'm allowed to have my own pair of scissors," Chuuya said as he slumped into the other armchair in their common room. "You know, like someone who's passed kindergarten?"

"I can buy shoes in the adult section."

"I don't need to take sixteen pills a day just so I don't jump off the roof," Chuuya said as he snickered.

"Well, I have better aim than you do," Dazai said matter-of-factly.

"With guns, maybe."

"...Well, yeah. What else would I be talking about?"

Chuuya laughed at his own joke for a second before his chuckles subsided when he realized Dazai genuinely didn't get it.

"It was a sex joke?" Chuuya said, shaking his head as if it was obvious. "Like, knowing where to aim your...?"

"Oh, that checks out." Dazai took a sip of his whiskey, smiling as he looked back over at the redhead.

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"